


Once and Then Again

by updatebug



Series: Oneshots, musings and to be continued [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Character Death, I love the human gang, Reincarnation, and they're already dead anyway?, canon may have accepted it but I sure haven't, does it count if i resurrect them?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 19:11:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15443883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/updatebug/pseuds/updatebug
Summary: Even Shinigami can die. Even Shinigami can be born.





	Once and Then Again

**Author's Note:**

> so this is a planned rewrite of a fic I used to write on fanfic.net under the same name. Basically the idea is that the human squad were all Shinigami during the Visored incident who were killed and reincarnated as humans. The Shinigami who knew them before are understandably confused. This snippet is very old and needs to be rewritten but I'm hoping posting it will give me the motivation to actually do so.

Yamamoto stood statue-still both hands on his staff, reiatsu steady, a pool of tranquillity in the chaotic flurry of the corridor. He stood tall, back, not quite touching the wall behind him, and straight as a ruler. Even his hair and clothes seemed motionless, untouched even by the slight breeze that drifted through an open window. His eyes were the only crack in his marble façade, flickering back and forth as they followed his son’s rapid movements. 

Yamamoto Isshin, the Captain Commander’s only child, was pacing, an explosion of movement and barely contained energy a direct contrast to his father’s stony countenance. He took onetwothreefourfive steps in one direction before freezing for a moment before throwing himself in the other direction and doing the same where he did it again. Back and forth, back and forth he went over and over with his father’s eyes following his progress.

As he paced he moved his hands, some moments twisting them together others running them through his hair, grabbing hold of the ends and pulling, switching his gaze between his Father and the closed door that was the cause of his anguish. While all of this was going on Isshin kept up a constant stream of babble, meaningless sentences spoken so fast that they ran into and overtook each other creating a constant low level din that was still not quiet loud enough to mask the screams of pain that could still be heard through the closed door, Isshin flinching at each one. 

The screams got worse, louder and more anguished, as Isshin stopped pacing and merely stood, staring at the door unable to force himself to stay still and vibrating on the spot with anxiety and anticipation. 

There was silence. And Isshin froze completely, the hitch in his breathing before it stopped completely the only sound in the corridor. For one eternal moment there was silence, a silence that stretched on forever until it was broken by a thin broken wail. The door opened and Unohana stepped out, inclining her head slightly in Isshin’s direction. In a breeze of shunpo he was gone, brushing past her and into the room. Unohana re-entered and closed the door behind her leaving no-one to see Yamamoto’s momentary lapse of control as his shoulders sagged in relief and his lips quirked upwards slightly for a split second. 

Time passed but Yamamoto no longer seemed to mark its passing, standing there in silence until the door opened once more.

“They’re asking for you.” Unohana said softly before allowing him entry to the room, leaving the family in peace. 

Masaki, his son’s wife lay in the room’s only bed, she sagged backwards against the pillows, her face tight with tiredness and pain, in spite of the this she was smiling softly, the same besotted look of her face as was on her husband’s as the gazed fondly down at the small bundle she held in her arms. The child was swaddled in cloth, so well wrapped that Yamamoto could only see a hint of sooth skin and one exquisitely tiny hand, poking out of the blanket with its half-grain rice sized fingernails. 

It was Masaki who answered his unasked question, “A son,” Her voice soft but bursting with pride. Before leaning forward slightly and passing him into his Grandfather’s waiting arms. Yamamoto looked down at the perfect features of his grandson, he was heavy in his arms, the same way his son had been but still and quiet where Isshin had squirmed and cried. It had been a difficult pregnancy and an even harder birth and at one point Unohana had feared that they would lose the child. Wispy tufts of bright orange hair escaped the swaddling and Yamamoto brushed one hand across them. 

“Have you a name?” 

“Ichigo” Isshin replied, voice hushed as though afraid speaking too loudly would shatter the spell and reveal the moment to be nothing but a dream. 

“Ichigo,” Yamamoto repeated, the child scrunched his face slightly as though to complain about being woken before opening eyes that were a light brown, flecked with amber. He met and held his grandfather’s gaze. Yamamoto nodded slightly, “It is a good name, a strong name.” 

Xxx 

It was much later when late afternoon had faded to dusk and Yamamoto had left to attend to the duties that the birth of his first grandchild had made him neglect (re. paperwork evil evil paperwork) that Isshin slid his arm out from under the shoulders of his sleeping wife, scooped up his sleeping son, cradling him in the crook of him arm as he left. 

Near the eighth division was a pub, it was a slightly more respectable place than those near the eleventh division, although that may be attributed to the fact that the members of eighth didn’t consider the evening a disappointment if they could walk at the end. The pub was usually frequented by the higher ranking shinigami and it was in this pub that Isshin’s friends and family had gathered. As had the friends of his friends. Shunsui Kyoraku, Jushiro Ukitake, Kisuke Urahara and Shinji Hirako as friends had decided to wait there for news on the basis that it was where they most commonly got together and so the place where Isshin had known to find him. They had snagged a table (something which was rather easy for four easily recognisable/intimidating captains). It was only after this that it started to get a little complicated. 

Kaien Shiba, Ukitake’s vice captain and cousin to Isshin through their mothers’ sides, as a cousin he could have been at the birth but when Unohana said two guest only she meant two guests only, thank you very much. Upon finding out why and where he would be spending the evening Kaien had decided to tag along. He also decided to tell his sister, a decision which was largely influenced by the fact that if she later found out he hadn’t she would break his nose. 

Yoruichi Shihoin had been at the house when he got there her and his sister attempting to outdrink each other, Ganju scurrying back and forth as Kukaku barked orders at him. All three of them grabbed their own table, Yoruichi stealing Urahara’s sake as they did so. Soi Feng had been conveniently passing (Not Stalking! In NO way was this stalking…she had just been in the area). Kiyone and Sentaro also did not stalk their captain there, they were merely…concerned for his well-being thank you very much (“It was Kiyone’s idea” “LIAR!” “Am not!”). Hiyori on the other hand had burst into the bar , smashing the door to pieces, slammed a pile of paper work onto the table in front of him and proceeded to smash her shoe across his face for attempting to dump it on her. 

This was the scene that Isshin arrived to, utter chaos. Urahara cowering under Hiyori’s rage, Sentaro and Kiyone doing their level best to beat the other into the ground as Ukitake tried to intervene (“Sorry Captain” “I’m sorrier” “are not!”) and Kukaku and Yoruichi laughing uproariously. A noise stopped them and the entire room froze, looking guiltily at the door, as a baby began to cry.


End file.
